


See the Whole Board

by sceawere



Series: Checkmate [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anglo-Saxon, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon Disabled Character, Chess, F/M, Family Dinners, Language Barrier, Mutual Pining, Religious Discussion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Romeo and Juliet Nonsense, Royalty, Strategy & Tactics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14295000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: When he and Ragnar are captured on English shores, Ivar encounters a Saxon Princess and changes the course of the whole game.





	See the Whole Board

 You’d been stood at the end of the corridor, staring down to the door at the other end, for nearly an hour now probably. It never opened. The guards never moved, nor acknowledged you, and you them. You stood, arms crossed, staring.

You were curious. You’d been but a child the last time Ragnar had visited but you remembered him. Like a ghost he’d waded in and out of your childhood – whether through a physical presence or the stories your father told. Great warriors from the sea had made their way into your dreams, rising from the surf to visit you. And now your father had him in a cage.

He’d brought his son. A man now, about your age, so your father had said. And yet he was another ghost that had wandered in. Kept contained for now in the room at the end of the hall. With the unmoving guards who paid you no mind.

What did he look like? How did he speak? Was he like his father? Was he not? Was he terrifying?

“Sister”

You turned your head, meeting eyes with Aethelwulf as he approached. He looked down the corridor, nodding his head as he crossed his own arms and leant against the wall.

“Have you seen him?” he asked, a knowing look on his face.

“No. I want to” you admitted.

“Why?”

“Curiosity”

“It will the end of you one day, sister” he smiled, and you returned it.

“Or the making”

“Hmm. Very wise”

You gave him a sarcastic look and he smiled at you.

“What’s he like?” you asked after a few moments.

“Not what you expect”

You turned your head back, stared at the door again.

“What’s stopping you?”

“I’m not allowed…am I?” you turned your head for confirmation.

He scoffed, then laughed, re-adjusting his shoulder against the wall.

“Whenever I worry you’re too inquisitive for your own good, I remember you’re also far too good to let it get you into trouble”

You sighed, turning your head back to look at the door that was nearly burnt into your view by now.

“Go and see”

You flicked your eyes to him, waiting for the trap.

“Go and see” he insisted.

You stuttered for a moment before stepping forward. The guards stepped aside as you approached, you assumed at a nod from your brother behind you. You felt him trail as you stepped into the room.

Ragnar’s son was sat at a bench playing himself at chess, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. He straightened as you walked a little closer, stepping into the stream of light. His eyes flicked from you to your brother, then back again.

“Well, sister. What do you think?”

His eyes moved to follow the speech but by the look on his face, the slight opening of his lips, the subtle raise of his eyebrows, he had no idea what was being said.

“He’s not what I expected” you admitted.

 

* * *

 

He gave a little smirk before every move of his and a smile after each of yours. You hadn’t spoken a word to each other – you couldn’t. But it felt like a whole conversation just the same.

You pulled your shawl back up around your elbows from where it had slipped from reaching out for the piece and looked over to the guard while he was considering his turn.

“Are we permitted a fire? Or is the hope that our guest may freeze to death before we have to decide what to do with him?”

He gave a look over to the man opposite you and then turned to nod at someone stood out in the walkway. Your brother had insisted there were eyes on you at all times, and the guards had to keep eyes on each other, and so the door was wide open. It was letting in a draft and with the bare nature of his cell there was nowhere for the warmth to hide.

You turned back to watch his move, scowling at the state of the board now. You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat. Another smirk. You bit your lip, squinting as you considered your options. You reached out a tentative hand, stuttering over a piece, before sliding over to move another. He lowered his eyes, his face falling.

He moved.

You moved.

He moved.

You moved.

He sighed and leant back. You let out a laugh, lifting his Queen and planting her dramatically on the bench in front of you before reaching your hand out to shake his. You fluttered it in the air when he stared at it, eyebrows raised expectantly. He rolled his eyes across, reaching to meet your grip in his. Your smirk fell at the warmth of his skin, the fire in his eyes. You fluttered your lids, taking in a cleansing breath.

You pulled back, lifting the Queen, and carrying it away from the bench.

He called after you, a chorus of words you didn’t understand. The sounds swam over you and circled in your mind. His voice. Not understanding what he was saying made you appreciate the tone, rather than the words. You stopped and turned, the guards coming behind you to light a fire in the place.

“You want it back, you’ll have to win it back. Don’t worry. I’ll return”

You gave him a mocking bow and left the room, your shawl trailing after you in the breeze.

 

* * *

 

 

You kept your head down at the meal that evening, twirling the piece in your lap under the table.

“Father said you were playing chess with Ivar. Did you win?”

It took you a moment to realise your nephew was directing his words to you and you brought your head up in sections, like pulling yourself slowly from a dream.

“Forgive me, Alfred. I was in a world of my own making for a moment there”

He smiled back at you and you tucked the piece into the fold of your skirt, under a band there.

“Did you win?” he repeated.

“Of course, I won! I’m shocked that you would doubt my abilities. Have you played against…Ivar?” you paused, not sure whether to speak his name.

“I have”

You tilted your head.

“Did you win?”

“I did”

“Of course” you picked up your cup and took a swift drink “it seems our guest is perhaps not the best tactician”

Aethelwulf lifted his own cup.

“I would not underestimate him sister. You should not doubt his abilities. If he is anything like his father-”

“Ragnar is being kept in a cage, is he not? That seems a folly of wisdom” you scowled, stabbing your knife into a lump of meat.

“I’ve had far too many arguments with you to think you hold that to be true” he replied, a diplomatic tone but wide smile.

You placed your cup back down and nodded to the side.

“He had me working for my victory, I will give him that. No, I do not underestimate him. I’m sure were he to take after his father’s ambitions we would be sure to have a fight on our hands. Though I am confident of our victory, has not father always prevailed against them?”

You turned to him sat at the head of the table, half away in his mind himself. It worried you, his progression. When you were born Aethelwulf was already old enough to be your father himself and you seemed to be increasingly aware of the divide between you and the men of your family.

He seemed to pull himself back, smiling at you, and patting at your hand.

“I savour your confidence in me. Though I think were it not for his affliction, Ivar would already have presented himself as a scourge to our coastline” your father admitted.

“Affliction?”

You ran your tongue over the side of your cheek, turning your head between your father and your brother with an expectant look.

“His name does not yet precede him, it seems”

“Affliction?”

This time more firm.

“He is ‘Ivar the Boneless’, sister. His legs are…”he lifted his cup, turning words over in his head before he settled on one “malformed? I assume the name is a description enough”

“They are broken? In battle?” you frowned.

“Born like that for all my understanding. He has never walked”

You tried to pull the picture of him back in your mind but he’d always been sitting. You weren’t exactly in the habit of inspecting people’s limbs at social occasions and so it had passed by you.

“The raiders prefers the sea, do they not? What use does a man have for legs when he has a fleet to travel for him?” you rested your elbows against the table top.

“At some point, you must land” your brother posed, and you smirked.

“Must you?”

Aethelwulf smiled over his cup.

“I feel another argument approaching”

 

* * *

 

 

You made haste down the corridor, turning swiftly. The lamps were lit along the way, braziers burning through the arches as you went. The guards did not step aside as you approached this time. You waited in front of them expectantly.

“I wish to enter”

“We have received no order” one replied.

“You are receiving them now”

“From your father, or your brother, princess. We were told to allow none other within”

You stepped forward another step, keeping your spine as straight as you could. You waited. You weren’t sure how long it took them to relent but eventually they did and you stepped in, triumphant.

You thought him asleep at first, turned back to you in the cot. You saw his arm twitch as though his hand were grabbing at something and you hovered in place.

“If you’re going to try to stab me, I’d like to warn you that it’s almost a mile to the front gate and there are many men between you and it”

You knew he couldn’t understand your words – although you were sure for a while he was putting it on as a ruse to gain information. You hoped your tone communicated enough. He rolled towards you slightly, his body as one movement. A sharpened crack of wood was placed in his palm as it lay on his chest now and you tilted your head.

“I already have your Queen, Ivar, your game is long over”

He tilted his own head at your use of his name, the only sound he understood as it fell from your mouth, and he lifted himself to sit in the cot. He shuffled on his arms, pulling his legs with him so he could lean against the wall. Your eyes trailed down, noticing the bindings that supported them now, and his eyes followed yours. He looked angry at first, then…sad? Something tinged in his expression. He threw some words at you, garbled tunes that flew past you and out the door for all you understood. But his tone, that you understood.

“Are they hurting? I would think they would hurt you”

He kept staring at you, nostrils flaring. You’d pissed him off. You sighed, untucking the Queen from the loop of your belt and stepping forward just enough to keep it at an arm’s length from one another. Both you and he would have to reach to transfer its ownership, but you felt it best to keep a distance. You lifted it a little when he did not move, and it took him a moment of uncertainty, leather bound hands grasping around the pads of your fingertips as it passed over. A show of peace. Of possibility.

You turned and left.

 

* * *

 

 

He looked shocked to see you again the next morning, eyes tracing the contents of your arms as you emptied them onto the table. He looked confused as the servants came in and set both a fire and a pot going. He looked very confused at the monk who entered finally.

“Brother Eldred, could you please?”

You motioned towards Ivar and he nodded before setting off in speech to him. Finding a monk who could not only understand their language but was willing to enter a cell and use the knowledge was a task that had taken the full day and night. You set yourself in concentration of your work, perched on the bench as you measured out the right number of leaves and seeds and whatnot, wrapping them carefully in the cloth and binding them tight.

“He asks what you are doing” Eldred relayed.

“Making tea”

He relayed the message back and you turned at the extended silence. Ivar was looking at you, an expression of disbelief on his face. You shifted your eyes over.

“Did you tell him good morning?”

“I did, princess”

“What did he say?”

He hesitated for a moment.

“It is…probably best I do not repeat it, your grace”

“Ah”

You turned back to your work, lifting the bag and a cup and moving towards the bubbling water. You’d had it heated ready, to be transferred. A dip of the cup into the simmer brought back as much as you needed and you plopped the cloth into it, dipping and turning it. The liquid began to tinge blue, then deepen into purple and you blew onto it slightly before handing it over to him. You dipped beside the bed this time, the guards poised in case he should try anything.

He flicked his eyes from you to the liquid, back and forth.

“If I wanted you dead, I’d drag you into the square and make a spectacle of it”

The monk repeated your words into his and Ivar lifted a brow, eyes meeting yours. He brought his hand up to take the cup from you, the pads of his fingers trailing over the back of your hand as he retreated. It was unnecessary but not unwanted.

He sipped at it for a few moments, probably waiting to keel over.

“It’ll help”

You waited for a break in the translation.

“My mother used to suffer with pain as well, I used to make this for her” you admitted, head dipping slightly in his gaze. Your tone lowered, and he watched you this time as the monk spoke. He took another drink before speaking.

“He asks if she is gone”

You nodded. He spoke again. You waited.

“He asks who you are”

“Does he want my name, my station, or my titles?”

The monk began to reel off all of the above, words skewed at points into what you assumed were corresponding rankings in their culture.

“You are a Princess?”

Your eyes flicked up to his as he spoke the words, your mouth parting slightly.

“Are you not _Prince_ Ivar?”

He settled back against the wall, looking full of himself again. He handed the now empty cup over to you and you lifted yourself with it, stepping back through the room. You signalled to the servants to collect the contents of the table.

“Princess?”

You turned at his call to see him pulling something from behind the cot and for a second the thought of the makeshift blade came to mind. Surely he’s not that stupid?

He lifted the chess piece and threw it across the room to you, barely catching it. He motioned the monk over and smiled at his nervousness. They whispered between themselves for a few moments, Ivar lifting himself up a little on his wrists and the monk bowing to converse. He nodded him back before turning to you.

“If I wanted a Queen, I would win one”

You stood still at his words, struck by everything and nothing at once. You heard another meaning behind his words, the look in his eyes as he spoke. You turned the piece over, grasping it between fingers. A last look before you planted it to the table and backed away from him again.

 

* * *

 

 

You hadn’t seen Ivar since that morning but you found yourself walking past the place you knew his cell was held and wondering about the room behind the wall. You sat on the banks, staring out onto the river, watching the water weave and dance through its path.

_If I wanted a Queen, I’d win one._

It didn’t sound like a throwaway comment, he had meant something by it. Not a threat. Perhaps a promise?

A driftwood boat jostled past you and you watched the children swimming after it, glistening in the high sun. A smile pulled to your face as you watched them and you imagined yourself in the water, diving after boats as they spanned out across the ocean. Your father had told you at breakfast that he’d arranged for Ivar to be shipped back to his home. Ragnar would be staying, transported to his fate in another place. It tore at you. The choice seemed fractured, your father had always instilled in you that if you were to make a choice it was to be a whole one. It was to pander to an enemy or eradicate them, there could be no half efforts.

Perhaps it was Ivar’s words that weighed on you but as you watched the scattering of lashed twigs and scrappy fleets surge past you, your heart leapt and you imagined yourself dashed against the rocks, boats spanning themselves around you.

 

* * *

 

 

“That is ridiculous”

“As are you” you returned.

Having a conversation through a nervous monk didn’t lend itself naturally to banter but you were both manging as best you could, battling with your words, even if the chess board before you remained in a similar position.

“My Gods are not ridiculous, they make sense. Having one man be in charge of everything…”

He laughed as he finally made a move and you leaned even further against the surface, fist braced against your cheekbone.

“Yes, because when discussing men living in the sky we cannot see who do their bidding upon us, what boggles the mind is the workload they bear”

He smirked up at you as the monk relayed the gist of your message. You were carefully avoiding every topic you wanted to field and instead had focused on your differing religions, a notoriously calm and considered subject.

“We have women Gods, too. Should you not think that a better system?”

He rolled his bottom lip to catch between his teeth and set you with a look and you shrugged.

“We have women saints. I’m fine with what I already have, thank you very much”

You swapped his piece for yours, dropping it to the side of the board with a little venom to accent your point.

He swallowed a smile, focusing further on the board. The glint of the metal at the break in his shirt drew another question to your mind.

“Is he like…God? The most important one?”

You pointed towards it to emphasise and he looked down as the monk relayed. He brought his finger to loop it forward and you saw now it was like a hammer.

“Thor is the son of Odin” he replied in English.

“Like Jesus”

He seemed unimpressed by your interpretation and you were sure your expression and tone hadn’t helped. The break for translation allowed for a lot of gloating, teasing looks if it did nothing else to benefit the conversation.

“No, not like your god”

“Jesus isn’t a god. He’s the son of God. A manifestation of the holy as flesh. Would you like me to give you a lesson?”

He rolled his eyes and set his jaw and you licked at your lips in humour. His eyes fell to watch the action and it made you sit straight again in your seat, eyes falling to the board.

 _I remember you’re also far too good to let it get you into trouble._ If only you knew brother.

He would be gone soon. You kept reminding yourself. This was to satisfy your curiosity, nothing else. Like studying the books the monks brought back from their pilgrimages. It was academic.

It didn’t feel academic. You reached up and fiddled with the cross hanging at your own neck, turning the worn icon over in your fingers. His hand reached out to trail over the chain, lifting the pendant to rock in the air. He seemed torn by something and you thought maybe he was considering the same thoughts you were. The raider prince and the Christian princess.

He would be gone soon. You must remind yourself.

 

* * *

 

 

You walked out with your nephew, guiding him to the cart. He handed over his chess piece, and the one you’d given him. If you’d done it yourself, you’d draw attention. There would be questions, there would be looks. By handing it to Alfred you’d avoid that. You were still playing chess, even now.

He turned the pieces over in his palm, noticing the scratched image in the foot of yours. As best an image of the hammer at his chest you could remember, with a cross overlaid in ink, so as to resemble both your icons.

He nodded to what seemed to any other to be himself, not looking at you either as you looked away, smiling to the ground. You watched their dismissal of each other through your periphery. _Please God, if they are ever to meet again, let it not be across a field._

Your nephew moved his way off and you stepped to follow him when Ivar’s arm came out to grasp at yours. Every guard within pace surged forward and you held your hand up to stall them. Ivar spanned his eyes across the courtyard before rolling them back to you. He held the piece Alfred had given him between clenched teeth as he reached under his shirt and pulled out the leather cord from there. He lifted it over his head, dropping the piece to his lap and shuffling so he could lay the cord in your palm.

He made sure to bend your fingers over it, trapping it in your palm. You looked down at it, your breath deepening. This was exactly the kind of show you’d wanted to avoid. You turned, your hand still clenched between his and nodded over the monk.

“Ask him- won’t he need it? For the journey…to protect him?”

You waited for him to travel the words over and lowered your eyes when you felt him bring your knuckles to lay the briefest kiss to them. You made sure to shuffle over so that anyone else would only see your back and you thanked the brother in your head for doing his best to also obscure the view while keeping what you were sure his thoughts were to himself.

You thought he might not reply as he released his grip and the cart began to trundle away. You saw him lift the pieces from his lap and tuck it up into the wrist of his shirt. The garble of his words drifted over on the breeze to you and you turned to the monk in confusion.

“He said…I _have my Queen for that”_


End file.
